


Eastside

by jcebum



Category: GOT7
Genre: Fluff, M/M, Songfic, enjoy reading!, i mean it's fluffy enough?? idk, jark, markson, rich au, use of jackson and mark's chinese names
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-15
Updated: 2018-12-15
Packaged: 2019-09-18 14:41:42
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,759
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16996923
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jcebum/pseuds/jcebum
Summary: He drove to their favorite coast, the stars blinking and giving them the atmosphere of the night they had needed most.





	Eastside

**Author's Note:**

  * For [amerithaikcngs](https://archiveofourown.org/users/amerithaikcngs/gifts).



Twenty-seventeen. Wang Jiaer, otherwise known as Jackson Wang, was very close to taking over his father’s business. The title of ‘CEO’ would move onto him, while his father, Wang Ruiji, would be watching his every move from afar. Wang Jiaer, twenty-three with a lot to hold. His parents had always expected the best from him, both academically and outside of it. With each passing year, his birthday becomes heavier. His shoulders became even more tense, his face stone-hard, his heart and beliefs barely hanging on. His burdens were getting heavier, his eyebags thicker, his breaths deeper. There was just so much the world expected of him. He was the successor of China’s National Couple; the nation’s best businessman as well as the nation’s beloved gymnast sweetheart—there was no room for failure. He was constantly put to thread on thin ice.

Through the blurs of each passing year, month, day, hour, minute, and second, Jackson remembered when he had fallen in love with the most beautiful angel he had ever laid his eyes on—Mark Tuan. His Chinese name was Yien, and Jackson felt like he would never get over how _pretty_ his name was. _Yien, Yien, Yien_. Mark was one year above him, a soon-to-be twenty-four year old. Mark’s family was rich, too. He had spent a great amount of his years in Los Angeles, California. Even so, Mark’s Chinese pronunciation was still good. Perhaps it was due to his Taiwanese descent.

Jackson had met Mark six years ago, on the third of July in the year of 2011. Jackson was going around observing various universities, seeing as he received quite a lot of scholarships due to his marvelous achievements. Mark just so happened to have enrolled to one of the universities that was in his options. Mark was the one who kindly spent his free time showing Jackson a few of the best spots around. Mark was eighteen while Jackson seventeen—what would the two of them know about love? From then on, Jackson’s mind had been fully captivated by Mark Tuan’s presence. His beauty, his grace, his personality. Everything about him was fascinating, but Mark was eighteen while Jackson seventeen—what did the two of them know about love?

Once Jackson had graduated from high school and entered the university, he made efforts to see Mark again. They did meet again, and Jackson happily gave his number to Mark. Mark took psychology while Jackson took business (he would’ve chosen health science, but his parents gave him no choice). They started getting closer, and with every single step, every single heartbeat, and every single gaze, Jackson had successfully fallen in love. Jackson boldly confessed his obvious attraction to Mark a few months into college. The red that decorated Mark’s cheeks were a good sign for him, and to his satisfaction, Mark accepted him. They were shy, young, and naïve—the most they had done at that stage was hold hands, and that was enough.

“My love is yours if you’re willing to take it,” Jackson said to him, his eyes never leaving Mark’s pair. “Give me your heart, Yien. I’m not going to break it.”

A while into their relationship, they started to touch. Just soft and gentle touches. Jackson loved placing his hand on Mark’s cheeks and playing with Mark’s pretty hands. Mark loved it when Jackson would lay his head on his lap. It gave him the chance to run his fingers through Jackson’s soft dark locks. Sometimes, both Mark and Jackson would leave their cars or motorcycles at home and ride the bus instead. Their bus rides slowly became consistent. Their routine, whenever they’d go back to their own houses, turned into sitting at the back of the bus and kissing underneath the dim enough light.

It was a shame that Papa Tuan didn’t like Jackson that much. After about a year or two, Jackson had told him he felt that Mark was his future, the one person he’d want to share his everything with. Papa Tuan didn’t believe him. Although he knew of Jackson’s background and was in good terms— _friends_ —with the latter’s parents, he believed that his beloved Yien deserved someone better. Papa Tuan felt that Jackson wasn’t ripe enough yet, and he’d forbid Mark to go anywhere alone with Jackson.

Being the smart boy he was, Mark was able to find a way out of his bedroom window to sneak out late with Jackson nearly every night. When Jaebeom, Mark’s far cousin, would sometimes visit him in China, he’d help his older cousin get away with his rendezvous. If asked why he wouldn’t snitch on his cousin, he’d simply chuckle and say, “I’m just like you, Mark. I have someone I’d want to run away with, too, no matter our social statuses, educational degrees and whatnot.”

Jackson and Mark would meet on the Eastside of downtown Beijing at places their parents would never have dreamt of. Jackson thinks of the city of Beijing as a city that never sleeps, for the sun would never set. The streets were always lit by lights and the states of early morning and late night were only a thin line apart. Jackson would pick Mark up on his blue Corvette, riding through the backstreets. “A pickup truck would’ve given off a more dramatic rendezvous,” Mark would say, and Jackson would retort with, “This isn’t LA, babe.”

They’d have different destinations every night they ran away. With Jackson, Mark felt as if they were able to go anywhere they wanted. All of their dreams were just one shorthand of a reach away. They could drive down to a coast and enjoy each other’s presence while seated in Jackson’s car. Jackson would take the older’s hand in his, becoming the one person who’d ever want to spent so much of their precious time with him. Sometimes they’d have deep talks, sometimes light. Sometimes they’d bring some quality beer from home, sneaking it out of their parents’ cellars, sometimes they’d buy cheap ones on their way with masks covering their mouth and hats covering their hair, and Mark would giggle from the thrill of running away with Jackson without getting caught.

Mark was the type of person who, as people would say, liked living in the past. He focused so much on his past mistakes, past setbacks and past achievements that he’d never bother to focus on his present and his future. With Jackson, however, he was able to stop. Mark started living in the present, starting enjoying it, and at the age of nineteen, had already dreamt of having a family, a house and everything in between with the younger.

Fast-forward to six years after, twenty-seventeen (nearly twenty-eighteen), and the both of them were pressured to take their life more seriously. No more were the multiple rendezvouses they used to always have back in their university days. After choosing to live in a little cozy apartment together, the both of them starting having dead-end jobs and bills they had to pay. They were able to gain friends and enemies along the way. It wasn’t rare for Mark’s pretty face to be decorated with an exhausted look, his eyes telling Jackson how truly small and weak he would feel. Jackson sometimes felt the same as well—they were only two reckless men sharing an apartment together. They were just two small men in this world filled with 7.5 billion people.

“Never leave me,” Mark told Jackson once when he had been rejected from yet another job interview. He was working so many part-time jobs at one time. Yes, they both of them came from rich families, but their parents wanted them to _live_ first—they had to suffer for a while. “I’m sorry, my psychology major is useless.”

“No, Yien, don’t say that,” Jackson had replied. “We’re working through this _together_. I’ll take over my father’s company next year—just hang on.”

Sometimes Mark wanted to close his eyes and avoid reality. His head would remind him of when he was young; back to the day when he was falling in love with Jackson. Not with the successor of Wang Corporations, not with the perfect-at-everything Wang Jiaer, but with Jackson Wang—the man who had taught him how to be alive during his university days, even until now.

From their first meeting to today, they had always tried their best to stay positive. “We can do anything if we put our minds to it,” Jackson would remind Mark when he’d be at his lowest low. Their meetings on the Eastside were put to hold, replaced with packed and busy hours. One exhausting night as Jackson finally came home to their apartment, however, Mark had greeted him with a smile—a smile that had a certain meaning to it.

“Jiaer,” Mark started, “Let’s run away.”

Knowing what Mark had meant, Jackson took Mark’s slender hands in his, his thumb continuously going over the promise ring he had given to the latter for their fifth anniversary. Mark’s black hair was styled to the side, exposing a part of his forehead and beautifully done eyebrows. Mark looked beautiful underneath the quite dim light in the living room with the silver band decorating the ring finger of his left hand.

That night, Jackson drove the blue Corvette he still owned, his left hand on the steering wheel while his right hand was intertwined with Mark’s left. He drove to their favorite coast, the stars blinking and giving them the atmosphere of the night they had needed most. This momentary rendezvous was crucial for them. Not only did it remind them of their university days, but it gave them a little time away from reality too. With Mark’s head laying against Jackson’s chest and Jackson whispering sweet nothings into Mark’s ear, the fell into complete serenity. With soft breaths, soft touches and soft looks, the both of them smiled and exchanged the three words.

“I love you, Yien,” Jackson said, sincerity clear in his voice. “We’re okay. We’re more than okay. I’ll make you proud soon. I’ll marry you soon, I’ll—“

Mark shut Jackson up with a kiss, chuckling right after. “I know, Jiaer. You’ve told me that countless of times already. I trust you, remember? And I love you too.”

With the sounds of crashing waves, the blowing of the wind and the twinkling of the stars, Jackson and Mark strengthened their promise to be together. A family, a house, and everything in between—their future would work out somehow.

**Author's Note:**

> yes this fic was inspired by 'eastside' by benny blanco (ft. halsey and khalid)! i havent written a fic in so long omg my apologies but i hope yall like it!!
> 
> this was especially written for my bby jes aka @amerithaikcngs on ao3 uwu i hope you liked this!!
> 
> hmu on twt @hyunllx <3


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